


Natural with You

by irgmugurg



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Anxiety, Basically MC exploring the boys in demon form, Character Study, Comfort, Cutesy, Demon Tails, Demon Wings, Demons, Exploring Relationships, Fear, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gen, Gender-Neutral MC, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Literal Sleeping Together, MC is never gendered, Mentions of Lilith, Multi, No Beta, Sleeping Together, Survivor Guilt, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Trauma, Watching Someone Sleep, an excuse for me to coddle the boys, can you have survivors guilt if you're the one who died?, demon horns, straight from the google drive baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:54:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24774964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irgmugurg/pseuds/irgmugurg
Summary: There is a certain beauty to their ebony horns and darkened wings. Something so intimate about the side you rarely see. But now, right now it's just yours...And you couldn't be happier.__Each chapter is an exploration of relationships, demon forms, and emotions. Starting with Belphegor and going from there.
Relationships: Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s), Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Original Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 87





	1. Belphegor: you feel so kind within my arms

There’s a certain way that the Devildom sky hits the room just right that makes the sleep hidden behind your eyelids unbearable. The faint hues of amethyst fading into rough shades of emerald and ginger that make you feel home, make you feel loved and coddled all at once. You hum quietly, to no one but yourself _(a reminder you’re alive, a reminder you’re here in this space)_. This is something you’ll never be able to forget, even when you go back to the Human Realm, and your met with the amazing sights and feelings that it have to offer. 

This, the way the soft warmth of the hellfires drift through the air, a tinge of smoke and bitterness. The soft buzz of creatures that slither and swarm the skies, animals you’ll never fully understand or know. The small, ever alive chatter of the demons that wallow in their sins. But even then, even with the wholeness and chaos that the Devildom holds, you can only find yourself embracing its grasp ( _but you aren’t scared, how could you be so scared of something so beautiful and new?)_. 

You drape what’s left of your blanket over your side, settling into the abundance of sheets of limbs. Belphegor responds, curling further into your side _(something that doesn’t fuel you with an unnerving fear, and you can’t help but be thankful)_ . Like this, you almost forget the reality that was almost yours. Filled with blood, tears, and hearts that would never be whole. You try not to think about it, really, though as you look at him now it’s hard to believe it ever happened. It’s hard to believe that he could ever have hated anything so fully. It’s hard to believe that these hands _(the ones that hold you so tenderly, with callouses that feel so right against yours)_ are the ones that have hurt you so deeply for crimes that weren’t anyone’s fault. 

You used to stay up at night ( _a time where nothing felt warm and home was beyond reach_ ) and wonder how you _(the other you, the one to suffer for the criminal act of breathing)_ had to have felt. You had only felt a sliver of it, the full encompassing pain that ate at you, the way he hissed, and sneered before shattering you. When the pain had taken you whole, swallowing everything in its path, you woke up, still in the stairwell. 

Sometimes if you aren’t careful the dread still sneaks up on you. The feeling of impending doom, of an impending death that _should_ have been yours. The thought that you should have still been there, in Mammon’s arms and atoning for your sins.

Belphie shifts again, tail swishing before curling against your shin. And well, things have changed. So many things have changed. You had hated him, with a passion that could have only rivaled his. You had screamed and cried for hours. You had lost yourself in a sea of grief and trauma. Until he finally apologized, honestly (not his half-assed attempt at a shortcut). With such remorse and a fear ( _for you_ ) that you hadn’t expected. When he realized he couldn’t just ignore what he had done. When he realized that you had remembered. When he had looked you in the eyes and you could only see a sadness that you finally broke down your walls and accepted it. Until he broke them more with snarky comments and the brattiest attitude. Until he made sure you were warm at night with the fluffiest of blankets. Until he’d protected you against the demons that would haunt you. Until he’d lay his head on your pillow and smile, bangs pushed back and stars in his eyes as he told you how he and Lilith would joke together. Until when he touched you, you had only felt love.

And maybe it was the Angel in you that made things easier but after months things came easier. You would laugh at his jokes and accept his blankets. You would tell him your own stories about loved ones long since passed. The hatred that boiled in your gut simmered and a certain fondness grows ( _though sometimes you try to deny it still_ ). 

As you lay, the branches and leaves deviating into many different paths above you and Belphegor twisted around you, almost as if a newborn calf. You swivel to your hip, facing the sloth. The sky looks more beautiful here, shining softly against his pale cheeks that you find yourself staring. The ting of colors the drape across his face in waves makes you press a hand against his forehead, a soft caressing touch. You take a moment to be. To feel the moment around you, the _present_ that you’re in. 

His eyebrows are furrowed, only so slightly that you’d never notice otherwise. Eyelashes, long, dark, and beautiful pressed gently closed _(there is no malice here, only love and a certain wholeness)_. His skin is cool once it presses against you, limbs a blurry mess of sheets and skin, but warms as if to fit perfectly with your heat. 

But that’s not what warms you. You doubt he knows it but when he sleeps with you his demon form takes hold. You had asked Beel about it once, and he only smiled through crumbs and said ‘Belphie tries to hide it but with you, he can’t stop himself.’ and you had the feeling he wasn’t talking about the horns and tail. Either way, the sight of his sleeping figure within your sheets beside you, seeing the horns roll out from beneath his hair and tail sway softly was a sight that you would never forget. 

From here you could see the keratin that made the ebony curled horns, the shift in hue and layers. You pressed a finger against the curl, following the ridges. The rough bumps felt so sleek underneath your fingers. Belphegor leans closer, head tilting upward. You watch as the light only barely catches the shine, lightly bathing them in a purple hue. 

His tail inches higher up your thighs, the sleek hairs of the base pressed into your waist. You held back a snort, the tails end tickling your side. You couldn’t help yourself from wrapping your hands in it. Every time you see his tail you always forget how big it truly is. You waft your hands through the silky fur. It passes through your fingers gently. 

This is your moment. A time you won’t forget as forever rolls by. 

Things have changed and people have been hurt but when they lead to things like this- to Belphie beside you in your bed, to Lucifer’s smiling at his brothers, to a connection that’s finally whole you wonder if this is what it was all supposed to lead too. If this is what was set in the stars. And when Belphie’s eyelashes flutter open, his eyes _(a color of purple that will always be your favorite)_ staring up at you, you know it was all worth it. 

“It’s hard to sleep when I can feel you touching me.” He sneers, the malice lost between a yawn and the soft look in his eyes. 

You scoff, “You’re just so pretty when you sleep.” 

“I’m always asleep.” 

“And I always find myself utterly enamored with you.” You speak softly to not disturb him anymore, sleep already washing both of you in drowsiness. 

His cheeks turn pink, which mixed wonderfully with the light. It makes a creamy color against his skin. “Whatever.” 

You laugh, breathlessly as you curl against him. He wraps you within his arms, tail curled even tighter against you as he does. “Hmm, you can’t blame me. Can you?” 

“Yes, I can.” He mumbles, sleep folding within the consonants. Then, almost hesitantly, “You make me wanna stay up. No matter how sleepy I get. It’s disgusting.”

“I love you too, Belphie.”

He snorts against your neck and you can feel his smile against your skin. When you laugh again, he does too. You’re home here. 

The late Devildom sky grows darker and Belpie groans, “You wake me too early. Be quiet so I can sleep.” But when he latches his arms around you and he presses a kiss to your forehead, you can’t help but feel as if this was how things were truly meant to be. 


	2. Asmodeus: naturally beautiful in your arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: use of the word wh*re and sensitive subjects plus a lot of angst/crying

You brush your fingers against the soft silk of Asmo’s loose shirt. Soft and tender kisses into the crown of his head. The ebony keratin rests softly against your collarbones, you curve your fingers against the hills and valleys of his horns. His wings curl around his crescent body. The soft tufts of hair soft against your forearms. 

You can’t see it ( _The darkness swallows you both whole, the curtains pulled tightly shut. It doesn’t stop the moon’s light from shining bright. Opaque and crystalline._ ) but you know he’s crying. The light reflects ever so lightly against tracks that flow down his soft cheeks. 

He cries and he knows it’s ugly. The snot and his puffy red eyes. It’s everything he knows he’s not supposed to be. Brash and embarrassing and quiet and sad. He’d hope that you'd never see him like this. See how ugly he really is. See that all the work he does to look so pretty always, in the end, amounts to nothing. 

You press your fingers against his neck, twirling your fingers in the locks there ( _How can you make him feel so beautiful like this?_ ). 

He tries to play it off. He doesn’t know who he’s kidding, you can hear his sniffles and sobs, the gasps of air as he tries to push it all down. His emotions, his cries, all the ugly feelings inside. 

“...You don’t have to pretend like you don’t feel pain. Like you don’t feel insecure. It makes you...human. It makes you...you. And I love you for that, your brothers love you for that.” He stops, frozen. “And it’s okay to not love yourself for that. But know that those qualities don’t make you unlovable.” You press another soft kiss into his hairline. “You are loveable for your passion, for your kindness, and generosity.” Another kiss, another loving gaze. 

It’s simple, oh so simple, but he breaks down all over again. 

He lets his cries fill the empty space around the both of you. He cries and cries and he doesn’t think of what _they_ might think. He only thinks of your skin against his. Your warmth and love. 

He clings to you, horns pressed against your cheeks and wings pulling you impossibly close. Everything about him is so soft. So light. 

“I remember...” He sniffles. “Wh-when I was up in the celestial realm. I loved it, the attention, the love...I thought I had been made for it. It was a stupid, prideful thought. So, when I fell and arrived here, I couldn’t help being disgusted with myself. The jewel of the heavens becoming the Avatar of lust? Utterly depraved.” You can feel the fear in his voice, the vulnerability. “I threw myself into making myself pretty. Into making myself that same jewel that shined so brightly. Then the lust came. It took me in waves. Body after body after body. I felt like I wasn’t me anymore.” He looks up at you, fear reflecting in his eyes. “Like I was only lust. That’s all anybody really saw me as. No matter how much makeup and hair product I was just a _whore_ to them.” 

He looks so small here in your arms. Curled so tightly on himself, as if he’s afraid one look at him and he’ll come crumbling down. One badly placed touch and he’ll submit to his sin. 

“When you came...and my powers didn’t work on you...I was so-” He sobs harder, body racked with sobs. “So _fucking_ happy. I hid it with my own pride but I was so happy. Happy that somebody would maybe see me as something... _more_. Then...then I felt like I wasn’t good enough for you. Maybe I wasn’t pretty enough, wasn’t thin enough. And each and every time I flirted with you, every time I threw myself at your feet, I hated myself for it. I kept thinking it was only a matter of time before you saw me the same way everyone else did. But...you never did. And I’m so thankful for that. 

It’s the first time he’s spoken these words out loud. Other than drunken mumbles and into the skin of another ( _often ignored for their own passion, their own lusts)._ Speaking the words into existence hurt. They burn his skin and settle into his heart. 

But still. He’s glad. Glad he has you. Glad for his brothers. 

“I... It’s still me, though.” Asmodeus mumble, hiding in your shirt. “I... I love to flirt with you. I love to make you blush. I love to touch you. Just... even with my sin, there will always be a part of it that’s me.” 

He’s scared. So scared that this is where you finally grow tired of him, disgusted with him. 

“Can... can you still love me like that? For that?” 

You trace soft words into his skin. He waits with bated breath. 

“Asmo...Of course, my love. I love you for every little thing that makes up your heart and soul. Your flirtations, your smiles, your jokes, your touches. It’s all you and I love that. You’re not lust to me; you’re love and passion and so much more.” 

He doesn’t sniffle and sob but he looks up at you with golden, peach tinted eyes as tears drip down his cheeks. He truly is the jewel of the Devildom. 

“You’re my lover. My friend. My confidant. Mine in every sense of the world as I am in turn for you.” 

You press a kiss against his chapped lips, soft and secure. And...he still feels ugly. He still feels wrong to not be pretty but it feels right with you. Within your arms, he feels like he must be the most beautiful creature in the world. And this time he believes that he is beautiful. 

A distant feeling that he only remembers from the celestial realm. 

He continues. Telling you stories and emotions dragging into the early morning. Until the soft chirping of crows and the devildom nightlife fills the air. He’s tired, oh so tired but he doesn’t want to miss a single moment with you. 

Gradually his eyes fall close, fluttering shut and you kiss his eyelids with a light-hearted giggle. 

He dreams of you. Lying in his oldest, most comfortable and raggedy clothes, pints of ice cream litter his bed as the TV plays silent black and white films _(the form_ _of self-love he never allows himself to have)_. He dreams you hold him tightly, in his true form _(garbled and ugly, the form that never sees the_ _light of day)_ and you love him, so fully and holy. He dreams that you love him, inside and out. 

And you do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Besides Belphie, Asmo is the second hardest for me to write. His feelings and connections with sexuality and what his sexual tendencies signify for him cause a lot of emotions that I wasn't prepared to write. I feel like, in the celestial realm Asmodeus liked flirting because it made people feel nice. He wanted to compliment and make others blush but there was never anything sexual about it. Until he got to Devildom. Then he had to deal with lust and sex and he didn't know what to do, he couldn't just ignore his sins but after everything instilled in him in the celestial realm it felt wrong. Then comes the feelings of inadequacy. Not being pretty enough, not being thin enough, never being enough and it all just muddles into this mess of emotions. When you finally make him feel enough it causes him to break down. How could someone actually love him? All he's good for is lust? But when he understands how real your feelings are he is so so happy. 
> 
> In summary, due to the influence of the celestial realm, guilt and not properly understanding his own feelings Asmo finally tells you, the first person he's ever told about these feelings. 
> 
> I would also like to say that sex isn't wrong! I feel like that was a vibe that came out of this fic but I want to say that it isn't. Sex can be so many things but in the end, just make sure it's the right thing for you. Make sure you are comfortable and safe.
> 
> I'd love to hear what y'all think about this chapter! Next up is Satan! 
> 
> ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

**Author's Note:**

> Remember to take care of yourself!
> 
> ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎


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